Can you bleed like me?
Lydia: *shrugs* Not understanding anything at the moment. Frustated with the fact that there may be no answers to the questions I ask.
Pat: What do you mean?
Pat: What sort of questions do you pose to the situation?
Lydia: Why am I not content with my life as it is? Why, all of a sudden, does not being able to drink bother me? Why am I not okay with Dan doing what he's doing? Why do I feel like being here, in college, is somehow redundant?
Lydia: Those kind of situations.
Pat: *sigh* Don't bother answering question one.....question two is redundant, and it's a bother because that life is not examined...question three is personal and has relevance to security and feelings of affinity.
Vanilla Sweet LK: *nods* Thanks for your input.
Pat: I'm sorry to be blunt.
Pat: I know you don't like that.
Pat: But you know how I am.
Pat: And you realize, I am going to be honest.
Lydia: Am I cursing you or putting you down for that...? No.
Pat: No.
Pat: But I'm trying to imagine your voice.
Pat: So, I'm just relieving any former thoughts.
Pat: Understand, I'm kinda fucked up.
Pat: So...
Pat: I have to make clear.
Lydia: I know.
Lydia: I know what your answers are, I know what Erica's are. I know all of your answers. For some reason, I'm not accepting them yet.
Lydia: I'm not satisfied.
Pat: *nods*
Pat: I'm sure the feelings generated by the movie aren't helping.
The Hours. That film, without fail, always makes you think. Think, think, think. You can drown in your own thoughts. It is possible. I almost drowned in my nightmares last night. I dreamt of cages of water, Dan, disappointments, abandonment and blood. There's more, but I can't recall it. The dreams deprived me of any real rest. Patrick jokingly blamed it on one of the movies we watched. Resident Evil. But it wasn't the film. I knew what it was. My insanity and insecurity taking hold.
This evening, when we all awoke, there was an air of ease, of relaxation. Except.. in my heart, I wasn't feeling it. I was fidgety. And even later, as I sat at Erica's desk, I forgot how to spell my own name. I forgot to spell numerous things. Simple spelling. I felt my heart beat faster. I looked around her apartment. Opened my mouth to ask Patrick for help. Closed my mouth. Abandoned the pursuit of what I was doing. Left the computer, sat on the edge of the bed and put it out of my mind. I also put it out of my mind that I've been off balance all day.
Smile like hell, throw your cares to the wind and move on with your life. It's what society expects of you afterall. Isn't it?
Hey baby can you bleed like me?
C'mon baby can you bleed like me?
Hey baby can you bleed like me?
C'mon baby can you bleed like me?
You should see my scars
You should see my scars
You should see my scars
You should see my scars
Try to comprehend that which you'll never comprehend
Try to comprehend that which you'll never comprehend
Just try to comprehend that which you'll never comprehend
Try to comprehend that which you'll never comprehend
You should see my scars
You should see my scars
Pat: What do you mean?
Pat: What sort of questions do you pose to the situation?
Lydia: Why am I not content with my life as it is? Why, all of a sudden, does not being able to drink bother me? Why am I not okay with Dan doing what he's doing? Why do I feel like being here, in college, is somehow redundant?
Lydia: Those kind of situations.
Pat: *sigh* Don't bother answering question one.....question two is redundant, and it's a bother because that life is not examined...question three is personal and has relevance to security and feelings of affinity.
Vanilla Sweet LK: *nods* Thanks for your input.
Pat: I'm sorry to be blunt.
Pat: I know you don't like that.
Pat: But you know how I am.
Pat: And you realize, I am going to be honest.
Lydia: Am I cursing you or putting you down for that...? No.
Pat: No.
Pat: But I'm trying to imagine your voice.
Pat: So, I'm just relieving any former thoughts.
Pat: Understand, I'm kinda fucked up.
Pat: So...
Pat: I have to make clear.
Lydia: I know.
Lydia: I know what your answers are, I know what Erica's are. I know all of your answers. For some reason, I'm not accepting them yet.
Lydia: I'm not satisfied.
Pat: *nods*
Pat: I'm sure the feelings generated by the movie aren't helping.
The Hours. That film, without fail, always makes you think. Think, think, think. You can drown in your own thoughts. It is possible. I almost drowned in my nightmares last night. I dreamt of cages of water, Dan, disappointments, abandonment and blood. There's more, but I can't recall it. The dreams deprived me of any real rest. Patrick jokingly blamed it on one of the movies we watched. Resident Evil. But it wasn't the film. I knew what it was. My insanity and insecurity taking hold.
This evening, when we all awoke, there was an air of ease, of relaxation. Except.. in my heart, I wasn't feeling it. I was fidgety. And even later, as I sat at Erica's desk, I forgot how to spell my own name. I forgot to spell numerous things. Simple spelling. I felt my heart beat faster. I looked around her apartment. Opened my mouth to ask Patrick for help. Closed my mouth. Abandoned the pursuit of what I was doing. Left the computer, sat on the edge of the bed and put it out of my mind. I also put it out of my mind that I've been off balance all day.
Smile like hell, throw your cares to the wind and move on with your life. It's what society expects of you afterall. Isn't it?
Hey baby can you bleed like me?
C'mon baby can you bleed like me?
Hey baby can you bleed like me?
C'mon baby can you bleed like me?
You should see my scars
You should see my scars
You should see my scars
You should see my scars
Try to comprehend that which you'll never comprehend
Try to comprehend that which you'll never comprehend
Just try to comprehend that which you'll never comprehend
Try to comprehend that which you'll never comprehend
You should see my scars
You should see my scars